


Like a Shark on a Mountaintop, or Tentacles on a Wolf

by MzyraJane



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:33:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzyraJane/pseuds/MzyraJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They find a seventh direwolf puppy after the execution - but this one has tentacles. Theon doesn't like what this is suggesting.</p><p>First chapter is Gen and the relationship is UST at most.<br/>Second chapter contains some bad language and frank discussions (Teen).<br/>Third chapter is Mature/Explicit.<br/>Rather fix-it fic in total, with moments bordering on downright fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the lines are ripped straight from the book for the set-up and some events that carry on much as they do in canon, but generally from different points of view, etc.

It had been a good execution and was a nice, clear day for the North, Theon reflected as they rode back towards Winterfell. Robb and Jon had gone racing off ahead like over-excited children, but Theon was prepared to go at a more leisurely pace, overhearing the other men's discussions with a vague curiosity. 

At least until Snow called out to the group from atop a hill ahead of them, " _Father, Bran, come quickly, see what Robb has found!_ "

They trotted off after them, to a riverbank near the bridge, where Robb was down off his horse, knee-deep in snow and cradling something, Snow still mounted nearby. Theon wondered if perhaps it was some abandoned bastard child or something as they came closer, if they'd insist on bringing a whole new Snow home. But no, the thing in Robb's arms was furry- _And there was the largest wolf Theon had ever seen in his life by Robb's feet._ " _Gods!_ " he couldn't help himself exclaiming, and his horse was panicking more than he was, he had to struggle to keep it under control while he tried to go for his sword. _What was Robb thinking?!_

"Robb, get away from it!" Jory implored, but Robb just _stood there_ , grinning like a fool!

"She can't hurt you. She's dead, Jory."

Once Theon had calmed his horse down enough and dismounted, he realised that Robb was right and that probably should have been obvious. Still, the huge beast was monstrous. "What in the seven hells is it?"

"A wolf," Robb said plainly, as though Theon was blind to that fact.

"A freak," he clarified. "Look at the size of it."

"It's no freak," Snow said calmly. "That's a direwolf. They grow larger than the other kind."

That was preposterous. "There's not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years."

"I see one now." And that was almost so worrying a thought that Theon couldn't resent Snow's tone. Gods help them if direwolves started prowling the North again.

Suddenly Bran cried out happily from nearby - Theon hadn't noticed the rest of the party catch up - and moved to peer at the thing in Robb's arms. A direwolf pup, of course. Small and harmless for now, but still...

"Go on," Robb told his younger brother. "You can touch him."

Bran stroked the miniature beast, and then Snow was handing him- _Another?_ "Here you go. There are five of them." Five direwolves: Theon dreaded to think of what they could do full-grown.

Lord Stark came closer from where he had been discussing with the other men. "Do we know what killed her?"

"There's something in the throat," Robb said with proud diligence. "There, just under the jaw."

Lord Stark knelt and after a moment pulled out the cause - a foot of damaged antler, covered in blood. Theon had a certain amount of respect for the stag that had managed to take down a fully grown direwolf, but an ominous silence had fallen over the party. Theon supposed the symbolism was not exactly positive when the direwolf was the Stark sigil, but you couldn't read into every single time a beast died. Direwolves must die all the time beyond the Wall.

The other men weren't being so positive. "Born with the dead," one of them said of the pups. "Worse luck."

"No matter. They be dead soon enough too."

They should have been speaking more quietly, because Bran gave a cry of dismay, but they were right really and children could be so blind.

"The sooner the better," he agreed and pulled out his sword. Better to lose a pet now than later, or be savaged if they survived. Plus Theon would _technically_ be able to claim that he'd killed a direwolf, or even a whole pack of them. "Give the beast here, Bran." 

" _No!_ It's mine," he pouted.

"Put away your sword, Greyjoy," Robb tried to order with his Lord voice, as though it would work on Theon, especially when Lord Stark was around. "We will keep these pups."

"You cannot do that, boy," Harwin completely ignored Robb's decision, which went to show how much that was worth.

"It'd be a mercy to kill them," Hullen agreed.

"Hullen speaks truly, son," Lord Stark told Bran, finally a reasonable Stark. "Better a swift death than a hard one from cold and starvation."

" _No!_ " Bran was practically crying.

"Ser Rodrik's red bitch whelped again last week," Robb continued to try. "It was a small litter, only two live pups. She'll have milk enough."

"She'll rip them apart when they try to nurse."

"Lord Stark," Jon cut in, all formal as though that might gain them credit. "There are five pups. Three male, two female." 

Theon didn't see his point, and nor did Lord Stark. "What of it, Jon?"

"You have five trueborn children. Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord." 

That was surely just a coincidence, and completely wrong if Jon had included himself in the count (Theon briefly wondered what Snow would have said if there were six pups with three females among them), but it seemed to be working on Lord Stark. 

"You want no pup for yourself, Jon?"

"The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark. I am no Stark, father." It was an almost touching moment of self-sacrifice, but Theon was fairly certain that he had the outsider-amongst-the-Starks tragedy down far more than Snow did. He was unaware of any likely scenario where Lord Stark would be putting Snow's head on a spike.

"I will nurse him myself, Father," Robb rushed to promise, like an eager child. "I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give him suck from that."

"Me too!" Bran echoed.

"Easy to say, and harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants' time with this. If you want these pups, you will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?" Robb and Bran agreed eagerly and Theon sighed to himself. They'd all be obsessed while they had them, and devastated if they didn't survive. In all likelihood Robb would have even less time for Theon. He might be stuck spending time with _Snow_. 

Theon's attention wandered as Lord Stark laid out all the conditions for raising their own monsters, and then it was back to their horses so they could return to Winterfell. But, just as they were starting, Snow stopped them again, claiming to hear something and getting down off his horse. Theon couldn't hear anything and he was bored and frustrated now. They should just leave him.

Fortunately Snow returned quickly- with another direwolf pup in his hands. White with red eyes. "An albino. This one will die even faster than the others." And so much for the claims about them being destined for the trueborn Stark children.

"I think not, Greyjoy," Snow glared at him. "This one belongs to me."

So Snow was getting one too?! Seven hells, it would be all anyone in the castle was thinking of. Theon would have to summon the energy to go wenching still more than he already did, just to get away. From one kind of bitch to another...

They finally continued crossing the bridge and- "Is that _another?_ " someone exclaimed.

By the gods, was it now _raining_ direwolf pups? No wonder the bitch had died, her whelps were probably starving her to death from the inside anyway. 

Harwin headed down to the riverside again to where something small, black and slightly fluffy was half in the water.

"Is it dead?" Lord Stark called back as Harwin went to pick it up by the scruff of its neck. If it wasn't, maybe they were going to start finding enough for every Northman and his sister to have one, Stark blood be damned.

"No, it seems to-" but Harwin was cut off by his own yelp and he dropped the thing into the water. "SEVEN HELLS!"

"What is it?"

"I- I don't know, it's- it's some kind of _monster_..."

 _Yes, that's what direwolves **are** ,_ Theon thought rolling his eyes, but he got down off his horse. He was too restless to just sit and wait for nothing, and some of the other men were heading over to look too.

"Have you drowned it?" Theon asked as he came closer.

"No, it's... _swimming_..." Harwin said, staring at the thing managing to at least stay in place in the cold running water.

"What was wrong with it?" somebody asked.

Harwin shook his head. "I can't... I don't know... It had so many _legs_ , or something..."

One of the other men who was closer picked the thing up again and they peered at it. It was _hideous_. It did have the head of a pup, and was mostly covered in fur, but along its torso... It had four normal-ish legs, but that was the wrong term for the rest, because no appendage could possible wriggle like that and still have bones.

"What in the hells _is_ that?!"

"It's a bad omen," somebody else said fervently. "We should kill it." Theon couldn't say he disagreed; if a direwolf was a monster, there needed to be a whole new word invented for this _thing_.

Another brave man prodded at one of the fur-less wriggling appendages, which proceeded to wrap around his finger until he shook it off with a shudder. "They're like... _tentacles_..."

A wolf with _tentacles?!_ That was madness. But suddenly a number of the men were turning to curiously look at _him_ , and it took him half a moment to realise why. Heat rose into his face, "That thing is _nothing_ to do with me! I'm not even _slightly_ Stark! I agree with you: kill it now, burn its body, and pray to your gods that it's the only one of its kind!"

The thing whimpered as though it could ever derive any kind of pity out of anyone, except a mercy killing. Theon didn't even want to look at it.

But now the Starks had joined them. "What _is_ it?" Bran asked with almost no horror at all.

"I've never heard of such a thing," Lord Stark said looking serious but wary.

"We should _definitely_ kill this one, m'Lord," someone said. "Nothing good can come of it."

"Except Maester Luwin studying it, mayhaps."

"But couldn't he study it just as much if we take it back alive?" Bran suggested, and Theon hoped Bran never had cause to fight or go to war or he was going to get massacred. "Maybe he'll learn more that way, and he'll kill it if he can't."

"Fine," Lord Stark assented heading back to his horse, "but we have to get back now, we're becoming very late."

"Who's going to carry it?" the man currently holding it asked, looking overly prepared to drop it back into the half-frozen stream.

Somebody else took it from that man- only to press it against Theon's chest. "There you go, kraken."

Theon only resentfully stopped it from falling straight to the ground, and almost immediately the thing's... _tentacles_ started to wrap around his arm, making Theon shudder. He should just kill the thing right now; drop it and stamp on it, or draw his sword and stab it. But Lord Stark had already decided, so he might as well take it for now. It'd be dissected soon enough and Theon would be able to show everyone just how little he cared. As though such a monster was anything to do with him.

\-----

Theon only remained at Maester Luwin's because Robb (and Bran) was so fascinated by what it was that _he_ wanted to stay.

Maester Luwin initially thought that perhaps the unusual additions were parasites like leeches picked up in or around the water somehow, but soon verified that no, they were definitely a part of the pup itself. Then he postulated about how sometimes two separate beings fused together in the womb, as was sometimes seen even with humans, so perhaps that was the cause, but he dismissed that swiftly too. In the end he concluded that sometimes, for no particular or obvious reason, something was born with an entirely new characteristic from its parents, though he hadn't heard of such an extreme change.

"Is it going to die?" Bran asked, his own pup in his arms.

"It's very strange, but appears to be perfectly healthy for what it is," Maester Luwin frowned. "Probably no more likely to die than the others."

Theon didn't want to dance around the real question. "Can we kill it?"

"You _could_..."

"Should we?" Robb followed. "A lot of the men felt it was a bad omen and would have done so immediately."

The Maester sighed. "Too many people put so much faith in signs and symbols where truly there are none. It seems to be mostly direwolf, with all the inherent dangers of such a beast, and perhaps a few more due to its additions, but, if trained correctly as your father advised, it could pose no danger and possibly be a benefit. It's likely as innocent a creature as any other born." He hesitated thoughtfully. "Who would be raising this one?"

There was an awkward silence that was making Theon increasingly angry because he knew the other boys were glancing at him. "The men said that there was one pup for each of the Stark children, but then Jon found an albino one so they think that was meant for him, and now they think this one is Theon's because it has tentacles like a kraken," Bran blurted out quickly.

"Which is obviously ridiculous," Theon glared at Bran and waited for Maester Luwin to agree.

He was left waiting, as Maester Luwin thought deeply - as if this was something to truly be considered! 

"Tentacles or not, that is a _direwolf!_ If it means anything at all - which it probably doesn't - it is for a _Stark_ , which I am not and never will be! I am a _Greyjoy_ , _ironborn_ , rightful heir to Pyke and the Iron Isles! _If_ I have some kind of special sigil animal thing, it will be a giant kraken out at sea, destroying boats and drowning people, not some kind of freakish mutated wolf pup that everyone wants dead!" He was left panting from the shouts and self-conscious of how they were all now staring at him, and Robb had a slightly sad look on his face; Theon may have gotten a little too angry. Well whatever, "You deal with it if you want it alive, I'm not getting involved." He stormed out and to his bedchambers. 

Once there he tried to calm himself down, but without much luck. He shouldn't be so angry; it was mostly the more common people who believed the monster was his, but they were less educated and more superstitious. He shouldn't care what they thought. But he still felt so angry.

After a while there was a knock on his door. Theon was going to ignore it, until Robb's voice came through. "Theon? Are you in there?"

"If you're trying to bring me that _thing_ , you can go and chuck it down a well."

"It's not with me." 

He got up with a frustrated sigh and let Robb in. "What do you want?"

Robb stayed silent for a while, apparently struggling with whatever it was he was thinking, probably trying to find a way to convince him of why he should care about that thing. Finally he managed, "Does the insinuation of you being a Stark bother you that much?"

What, he was taking this as a familial slight? "Robb, it's not about insinuation, I'm _not_ a Stark."

"You don't want to be?"

Did the cold freeze northmen's brains?! "It doesn't matter what I _want_ , _I'm not a Stark!_ "

"Well... But... You're kind of an _honorary_ Stark..."

Theon couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "Do let me know when you're going to try suggesting that to the rest of your family, because I would love to see their reactions." Or perhaps that would be _too_ awful.

"But you've been here almost as long as I can remember. You've been here longer than you've been anywhere else!"

"And why is that? Because our families were at war with each other, your people killed my brothers and then I was brought back here _as a **hostage** to ensure my father's good behaviour!_ "

"You're _not_ just a hostage-"

"Perhaps not _just_ , but whatever I am, I _am_ a hostage."

"So... you would just _leave_ , if you could?"

Only then did Theon register the hurt in Robb's voice. "Robb, people don't truly want me here, it's simply safer for them to keep me than risk sending me back to Pyke. If I _could_ leave, I would be kicked out before I even made the decision. Nobody who remembers that war is going to trust the son of the man who caused it in their midst."

"So you do want to go. Even if I were the Lord of Winterfell and wanted you to stay?"

"You will inherit Winterfell, I will inherit Pyke. We could still visit, and write. Go to war together if it comes to it. Maybe our children would intermarry. Hells, I'll marry one of your sisters if you marry mine."

"But you cannot have even a part-direwolf?"

"If I cannot be a full-direwolf - which I can't, because all but you would not let me - I should definitely be a full-kraken. Just look at that thing we found: anything in-between ends up monstrous and despised by everyone. I'm not saying that it means anything, but if it _does_ represent me in any way, I have to change. You're like a brother to me, and I don't want that to change, but stop trying to make me into a Stark: you won't succeed."

\-----

To his credit, Robb listened. He took to calling Theon 'Greyjoy' more often, but not in a cold way, almost as though reminding himself of who Theon really was. And Theon didn't even know what had happened to the miniature monster, and, though he was a _little_ curious, he never asked. Truth be told, it was a bit sad to give up on his more Stark-oriented dreams, but they were fantasies in truth, and unrealistic ones at that. They had an action plan: Theon and Robb would become the best men they could be until they inherited, and then they would still be as much like brothers and loyal friends as two different Houses could reasonably allow. It would work well.

Although Robb's progression to inheriting seemed to be going a lot faster than Theon's (though Theon didn't ever know much of what was happening back on Pyke); Lord Stark had to go off down to King's Landing with the girls to be the King's Hand, and Lady Stark couldn't take over as she was too concerned about Bran, who had fallen from a building while climbing and lay in a coma, meaning that Robb was very much in charge in Winterfell for now. Which also meant that he appreciated Theon's support and advice, which Theon happily gave both as an opportunity to get experience, and for Robb's sake.

 _Then_ there was an attempt on poor unconscious Bran's life, prevented by Lady Stark, but then _she_ became convinced that she must go to King's Landing to inform Lord Stark, so Robb was left without both parents. Fortunately Bran did eventually awaken, but without the use of his legs, so several of the household were engaged in trying to deal with that, not to mention Rickon's confusion and distress about everything going on. And Jon was long gone off to join the Night's Watch on the Wall. Robb came to rely on Theon a lot in those days, and Theon was more than prepared to be his strongest ally and (metaphorical) older brother, far better than his own brothers had been. He was proud of how Robb was managing; he'd be a good, strong ally to House Greyjoy once Theon was in charge. 

Now and then the stress did get to him, however; they had news that Lady Stark had managed to capture the Lannister dwarf, brother of the _queen_ , because she believed him to have been behind what had happened to Bran. Perhaps understandable if true, but the Lannisters were a force to be reckoned with and it weighed upon Robb's mind. Then, when they went out riding, Bran was attacked and threatened by wildlings - only saved by a well-placed arrow of Theon's. Robb wasn't exactly grateful, however, claiming he put Bran at even greater risk.

Truth be told, Theon was more than a little affronted at Robb's reaction after all Theon had been doing for him; as though Theon hadn't been certain of his shot or would have endangered Robb's brother like that. He was of half a mind to stop helping from then on.

Until there was a knock at his bedchamber door, as there had been not so very long before. "Theon? Are you in there?"

"Yes," he let him in, stifling his begrudging feelings.

Robb sighed. "About what happened in the Wolfswood... While it's not what I would have done and I would have preferred some other way... Thank you for trying. And succeeding. I just... I have a lot on my mind. If anything more happened to Bran, especially while under my watch..."

"I understand." He could, it was true. "You're doing well though, that was just very unfortunate. Bran shouldn't have gotten separated like that, especially in his condition."

"No..." Robb looked thoughtful. "In any case, I have some spare time - we could spar to relieve some of the stress?"

"Sounds good," he grinned. Robb needed more smiles in his life.

"Good, I'll just go and change first."

Theon did the same and went to Robb's bedchamber when he saw that Robb still hadn't arrived. "Ready yet Stark? I've known women to dress quicker!"

Robb opened the door to give him an unimpressed look- and then there was a furry black and pink-ish thing running out at Theon, knocking him to the ground.

"No Black Lake, back! _In._ " Robb ordered while Theon stared. After a moment the thing returned to Robb's room reluctantly.

"Is that...?"

"Yes. Sorry, I know you don't like to see it, but he's not quite so well behaved as Grey Wind."

"You _kept it?_ " He stared up at Robb.

Robb looked a little uncomfortable. "To kill it or let it die would be a waste of a good direwolf," he shrugged.

"So you trained it and everything?"

"I won't say it was _easy_ with two of them, but it wasn't too bad."

Theon finally started to push himself up from the ground, trying to shake off his shock. "Doesn't that bother Grey Wind? Having that around?"

Robb blinked blankly at just the suggestion. "No, not at all. They're very close," he said, looking towards where they must have been. Theon hesitantly moved to see it himself.

In some ways the wolves didn't look all that different where they were, looking back at them. Different fur colours and Grey Wind looked slightly larger, and, of course, the numerous fur-less tentacles, most of which were wrapped loosely around the beast's own body, but remove those... "What did you say you'd called it?" Theon asked incredulously at the whole situation.

Robb blushed slightly, but tried to sound assured. "Black Lake, or Blake for brevity. I did briefly think to call it something linked to you, but knew you wouldn't appreciate that. And since I decided Grey Wind's name, and that one was black instead of grey and he likes swimming when he's allowed but is landlocked far from sea..." The wolf approached Robb as he talked about it, and Robb scratched it behind the ears until its tail wagged and its tentacles squirmed happily.

"Black Lake," Theon repeated blankly, still shocked and frankly bemused.

"When _you_ adopt him you can name him whatever you like." Black Lake returned to Grey Wind's side and they laid down comfortably, a couple of Black Lake's tentacles draping over Grey Wind's back. Grey Wind seemed unfazed by it, but Theon supposed that they _were_ brothers, perhaps Grey Wind was just used to the revolting strangeness.

"It's fine..." Theon didn't know that anything about this was fine, but, if Robb wanted to raise another pet, it wasn't really his business.

"I wish I could take him out more, but a lot of the household still don't like him so I leave him here for safety's sake, except sometimes to swim in the Godswood. The tentacles seem to help him in the water too, and when searching around. The rest of the time he wraps them around himself to keep them out of the way. He's very clever really." Robb said with some fondness.

 _It's a freak,_ Theon couldn't help but think. Robb and Grey Wind clearly loved it too much to see it now though, so he kept quiet. "So, um... we were going to spar?"

"Oh, yes: let's go."

Theon was worse than usual against Robb. He blamed that _thing_ being on his mind.


	2. Out to Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon gets sent to Pyke with his wonderfully perfect idea for how the Greyjoys can be Kings again. He's certain his father's going to love it, just like his people will love to see him again for the first time in ten years. ... *trollface*
> 
> Theon begins to accept his wolf and there are frankly embarrassing expressions of emotions for a grown man such as himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of lines more or less ripped from the books again for Theon's conversations with family members on Pyke, though some work out differently because this is an ever so slightly different universe, and then those have larger implications.

When Lord Stark was imprisoned as a traitor after King Robert died, Theon liked to consider himself Robb's biggest supporter in his consequent uprising. True, he wasn't the most experienced advisor in militaristic matters - many of the bannermen had fought in both the previous wars, including the very one that caused Theon to be brought to the North in the first place - but Theon was the best companion. Bran and Rickon had been left in Winterfell, so Theon was the last vestige of a brother and true friend that remained by Robb's side. Neither had expected to need to go to war quite so soon, but of course Robb would fight for his father and Theon would easily ally and plead his allegiance to Robb for it; getting experience and glory, and further securing Robb as an ally in Theon's own battles in future. 

The stakes were significant, but it was exciting riding off down South - though the sacrifices started early. Robb was going to have to marry a _Frey_ , and even Lady Stark - who had rejoined them - did not think too optimistically for that, but it was necessary for their forces and journey and Robb was ever dutiful for the cause.

From there on there was good news though. Lady Stark's father's hold of Riverrun was being besieged by Lannister forces before they arrived, but with a clever plan and a fierce battle in the Whispering Woods (which Robb led, Theon (and the direwolves) at his side), they smashed the Lannister men while losing comparatively few of their own, and even captured _Jaime Lannister_ , the uncle of the new King. The situation looked better and better.

Until they received word that Lord Stark had been beheaded after confessing to treason. It was, of course, a massive blow to Robb, made worse by the fact that Sansa and Arya were still stuck in King's Landing at the mercy of King Joffrey and his Lannister relatives. Theon himself wasn't sure how to feel about Lord Stark's death; that was the man who had held him away from Pyke and his family, had fought against them in the war that had killed Theon's brothers. But Lord Stark could have been worse to him, he knew. Theon just felt bad for Robb and his siblings and decided that the man had deserved a better end than that. The fight to free Lord Stark was over, and Robb was Lord of Winterfell now: a horrible way to reach half of their plans, but Robb would be a good Lord.

The bannermen agreed, to the point that, while discussing what they did next, they declared that not only should Robb be Lord, but _King_ in the North, as once his predecessors had been, before the Targaryens conquered Westeros. It was such a perfect idea that Theon was surprised he had never even dreamt it before, especially since, if the North could win its independence once again, so too might the Iron Islands. Robb and he might not be merely Lords, but _Kings_ , with an alliance strong enough to withstand attacks from the rest. Robb already had the allegiance of the Riverlands, and his aunt was effectively in control of the Vale, so with those four allies Robb could command near half of Westeros in his battle, perhaps still more if they could ally with Renly Baratheon in his claim for the Iron Throne. The Lannisters could be crushed for good, and they would be Kings.

Of course envoys would have to be sent out to their desired allies and Theon was eager for the chance to finally have a use for his heritage and to return home for the first time in ten years. Finally their plan would be in motion, even if Theon was not yet at his family's helm. He bid farewell to Robb in his tent, Robb's two direwolves lying and watching nearby, but he didn't make a scene of it; soon Theon would be back amongst his own kind, given the true love and respect the son of a Lord should have where he was wanted, not in a foreign place constantly the subject of suspicion. And besides, he'd see Robb again soon enough.

The Iron Islands were rough and harsh, but they were home. They were freedom from his yoke of the past ten years, back among his own people. Or they should be his own people, once they remembered who he was; leaving while scarcely more than a child perhaps left him less familiar to them than he should have been, and the ironborn were not so much like the greenlanders to bow and scrape to nobility in any case. And his only welcome being his now deeply religious Uncle Aeron was probably linked to his father already having longships called to Pyke; too busy preparing for the war to spare more, and Theon was more than capable of returning himself if he had to. After briefly being recommitted to the Drowned God they set off back, but the conversation was troubling.

"Uncle, why has my father called his swords and sails?"

"Doubtless he will tell you at Pyke."

"I would know his plans now."

"From me, you shall not. We are commanded not to speak of this to any man."

"Even to _me?_ " he couldn't help his anger flaring. Theon had led men in war, hunter with a king, won honour in tourney melees, ridden with great fighters, fought in the Whispering Wood, bedded more girls than he could name (including one less than a couple of hours ago), and yet this uncle was treating him as though he were still a child of ten. "If my father makes plans for war, I must know of them. I am not ' _any man_ ,' I am heir to Pyke and the Iron Islands."

"As to that, we shall see."

_What?!_ " _We shall see?_ My brothers are both dead. I am my lord father's only living son."

"Your sister lives."

Asha was older than Theon, but still, "A woman may inherit only if there is no male heir in the direct line. I will not be cheated of my rights, I warn you." He couldn't truly imagine why anyone would want that, the daughter in place of the son.

"You _warn_ a servant of the Drowned God, boy? You have forgotten more than you know. And you are a great fool if you believe your lord father will ever hand these holy islands over to a Stark."

Theon didn't hear the rest of what he said. _I am **not** a Stark._ The Starks had not wanted him as one of them, except for Robb, whom Theon had rejected when given the opportunity. Theon had deliberately rejected such acceptance in order to remain a Greyjoy, to serve and lead his true family. 

The memory of the monster rose unwanted in his mind. Perhaps it was meant for him, perhaps it showed what he was. But that monster had still had tentacles; it had been hated for them, but still they remained; it was not just a direwolf. And since Theon had seen it he had crushed any over-familiarity with the Starks: surely, had it been born now, it would be almost indistinguishable from most other krakens. No, his father had not yet spoken to him and was being presumptuous, cautious. Theon would soon show him the truth of the matter. He may bear an offer from Robb, but it was because it was good for them, not because he wanted to continue serving a Stark. Though he ought to be careful; clearly his father would never forgive what had happened to Rodrik and Maron, or his crushed ambitions, but Theon would make him see the right of it: this opportunity was too good for them to be refused.

He decided to test the waters with his uncle first. "Robb Stark is Lord of Winterfell now." 

"One wolf is much like the other."

_In some ways,_ he supposed. A lot really, except Robb liked Theon and bore no particular ill-will towards his family as Ned Stark had. And that made all the difference. "Robb has broken fealty with the Iron Throne and crowned himself King in the North. There's war."

"The maester's ravens fly over salt as soon as rock. This news is old and cold."

"It means a new day, uncle."

"Every morning brings a new day, much like the old."

By the go- _Drowned God,_ this new version of his uncle was driving him insane. "In Riverrun, they would tell you different. They say the red comet is a herald of a new age. A messenger from the gods."

"A sign it is, but from our god, not theirs. A burning brand it is, such as our people carried of old. It is the flame the Drowned God brought from the sea, and it proclaims a rising tide. It is time to hoist our sails and go forth into the world with fire and sword, as he did."

That actually fit well with Theon's proposal; they would rise and become kings again. "I could not agree more."

"A man agrees with god as a raindrop with the storm." 

Theon rode off ahead before he was overcome with frustration at his uncle dampening his hopes. This was going to work, regardless of the gods. 

When they reached Pyke itself his uncle did not stay, and Theon was greeted only by some old crone to show him to his chambers, though his father would see him in the Sea Tower once he had rested. He could not help but feel deeply resentful at the lack of faith his father was showing in him, but he could use that; he would surprise his father all the more by being far more than the man expected. 

It seemed as though most of the household he remembered from his childhood was dead. It was a shame, from the way Theon had observed the attachment of the people of the Stark household to the Stark children; perhaps if they lived Theon would have received a warmer welcome from those who had loved him as a child. He resisted the urge to wish his mother were still on the island; he was a man grown who did not require his mother for comfort.

His chambers were not where they used to be: away from his old snug bedchamber in the Sea Tower and instead in the Bloody Keep - bigger and better furnished, but still cold and damp and with a far less heartening history for those who occupied it. He hoped _that_ was a coincidence. He gave the crone orders to have the long-unoccupied room he was given more inhabitable, then washed with the water he was brought and dressed to look his most impressive for meeting his father; he did not need and would not wait to rest, he had to know what was happening now.

The journey between keeps and towers was more dangerous than he had recalled, but he reached his destination well enough. Once he managed to get himself let in - this treatment of him was ridiculous - he climbed the solar and found his father by the brazier. 

He was not what Theon remembered: hair grey and white and down most of his back, body smaller and gaunt to the bone now, but his face and eyes were hard as stone.

"Nine years is it?" were his first words to his long-absent son after long moments of silence. But Theon had a goal and he was determined.

"Ten."

"A boy they took. What are you now?"

"A man. Your blood and your heir."

He grunted. "We shall see."

"You shall."

"Ten years, you say. Stark had you as long as I. And now you come as his envoy."

"Not his. Lord Eddard is dead, beheaded by the Lannister queen." _Let your grudge die with him_ , he left unsaid.

"They are both dead, Stark and that Robert who took broke my walls with his stones. I vowed I'd live to see them both in their graves, and I have. Yet the cold and the damp still make my joints ache, as when they were alive. So what does it serve?"

This was Theon's moment. "It serves. I bring a letter-"

"Did Ned Stark dress you like that?" his father interrupted suddenly, bitterness in his voice. "Was it his pleasure to garb you in velvets and silks and make you his own sweet daughter?"

Theon felt the blood rising to his face. He wanted to correct him on it being Stark's notion, but clearly claiming it to be his own pleasure would gain him only derision. "I am no man's daughter. If you mislike my garb, I will change it."

"You will," his father said, rising up from under the furs that had been piled up on him. "That bauble around your neck - was it bought with gold or iron?"

Theon's hand went subconsciously to the gold chain he wore, only now recalling that of course an ironborn warrior never _bought_ such things, only ever took. He was ruining his own chances - none of this was truly important, not with the opportunity he brought!

He was silent too long. "You blush red as a maid, Theon. A question was asked. Was it the gold price you paid, or the iron?"

"It doesn't matter, I-!"

His father grabbed the chain and pulled it painfully until it snapped. " _It matters._ My daughter has taken an axe for a lover, I will not have my son bedeck himself like a whore."

Theon struggled through the humiliation and insults, and tried momentarily to understand what he was saying of Asha now.

He threw the chain onto the fire. "It is as I feared. The green lands have made you soft, and the Starks have made you theirs."

"You're wrong. I held no love for Ned Stark, nor his cold wife, or their whelps," the last was a lie by degrees, but Theon was worried. 

"Yet you've come like a well-trained raven to offer me terms from the Stark pup."

"This proposal was my idea. It serves our family and ambitions more than it does Robb Stark himself."

"So he heeds your counsel, does he?" there seemed to be amusement in his father's eyes, but that might not be bad.

"Yes, he heeds me. For ten years we've hunted together, trained together, even been to war together. I have his trust. He looks on me as an older brother, he-"

" _No._ " His father was suddenly furious and Theon realised why too late. "Not here, not in Pyke, not in my hearing, you will not name him _brother_ , this son of the man who put your true brothers to the sword. Or have you forgotten Rodrik and Maron, who were your own blood?"

Theon hadn't even claimed to consider Robb a brother himself - he was making a good point, but for how _over-sensitive_ his father was being. And he made it sound like Ned Stark had personally struck them down, when he had been nowhere near Rodrik, and Maron had been crushed by the falling tower! "I forget nothing." _It seems I remember better than you, old man._ "I remember my brothers very well," _though not fondly_ , "and I remember a time when my father was a king. Read the letter, _your grace._ " Theon did not know how good a king his father would make in this condition, but Theon would do the fighting, Theon would have the glory, and then _Theon_ would be king.

His father read the letter. "So the boy would give me back the crown his father took from me. So long as I destroy his enemies." His lips were twisted in a smile, but Theon was not certain that was good from the tone in his voice.

Theon recited the battle positions and plans from memory, hoping his father would see the perfect opportunity as clearly as he was. "If the gods are with us, even Casterly Rock itself may fall before the Lannisters so much as realise we are upon them."

"Casterly Rock has never fallen."

"Until now." Theon would go down in history for that. "Think of how much gold we would buy for so little iron: House Greyjoy would be more rich and powerful than we have ever known. We would hold _Casterly Rock._ " Theon personally planned to hold Casterly Rock himself, but he chose to leave off that negotiation until he'd won more of his father's esteem. 

"This letter says nothing of us gaining Casterly Rock or anything else but the crown in return for our sails and swords and _obedience_. This Stark pup claims he will _give_ me a crown..."

"He- he means we'll be _taking_ a-"

"He means what he says. But what is given is easily taken away."

"I- No, we'll be _independent_ , it won't-"

"You trust this Stark pup?"

Theon swallowed. "The Starks are honourable to a fault, and he considers me highly-"

"Honourable? Yet his father was executed for treason. Answer that, boy. And, honourable or not, I begin to see how greatly a son can vary from his father..."

And now Theon was desperate. "It is a better plan and opportunity than any other we have. Robb Stark is _winning_ against the Lannisters, the Baratheons split between brothers. He has the allegiance of the Riverlands already, and likely the Vale since his own aunt is in control of the place. With our help - and he will reward us because he _needs_ us - and possibly the younger Baratheon too, we can beat the Lannisters and the throne, and all those who wish to be independent again will be! We have no better option, we will never have a better opportunity!"

"Did you notice the longships as you docked?" his father regarded him coolly.

"I- Yes."

"We do have another option, an option whereby _we_ take our crown, take back our old ways, without having to serve those who took them in the first place." Theon stared in frustrated horror as his father crumpled the letter in his hand. 

"With no allies but ourselves? We will lose just as easily as the last time! Why will you not _listen to me?!_ "

Theon hadn't foreseen the backhand until he was knocked half way across the room. "Because you are a green boy from the green lands, half in love with the people who killed your family and kept you hostage, who has forgotten who he is and what that means. Were it not for Asha's freedom, I sometimes think I should have killed my own son before I let them take you and turn you into this."

"I am NOT a Stark! I am a GREYJOY, the best son you have left!"

"No Greyjoy would have proposed this," he said, throwing the letter on the fire. " _Leave._ "

 

\-----

 

Theon sat in his bedchamber, staring at the wall, weighing his options and loyalties and cursing his life. He was still bitterly angry at what his father said about it having been better to have killed him, but he couldn't in honesty disagree: if this was the way he was to be treated, better to have just slit his ten-year-old throat and have done with it.  
It seemed likely that that was half his father's plan in any case: the plans he was making now had been in preparation since before Theon had been free to return. Had they rebelled again with Theon and Ned Stark in Winterfell, Theon might very well be dead already.

At least Theon had been given a ship, was to be included in their plans. _Raiding fishing villages._ And even then under the watchful eye of his uncle and other more experienced men. Yes, he had never yet been reaving, hadn't sailed in years until recently, hadn't commanded men in such a way himself, but how was he to win any esteem or respect this way? While _Asha_ was off winning castles. How could he prove that he was better than her when he was given lesser tasks? _"Ten years a wolf, and you land here and think to prince about the islands, but you know nothing and no one. Why should men fight and die for you?"_ Theon hated Asha with a passion now, how she humiliated him again and again the previous day, but in his melancholy he could see her point. Succession and command was not necessarily so simple here. Every man was king on his own ship, and uncles or perhaps even a sister could steal Theon's place. 

And it was so frustrating because Theon had had a _good plan,_ and, were his father of sane mind, it should have been taken up and Theon commended and respected for arranging it, for establishing such alliances while captive. Instead his father was set on going it alone, _in order to take the North_. And what would that gain them? The Iron Throne was not in the North, the North would not give them a crown that way, and nor even was it rich. Sooner or later the war down South would be won by some side or other and, once settled, they'd come to reclaim the place and remove the crown they'd claim to have, and how should they hold the place? With longboats? Theon was sure he was the best fighter they must have overland and he could win battles for them, but the North was huge and there was only one of him. No, this was not a sensible war, this was war against the _Starks_ , he was sure. The North was currently under-defended, true, but his plan would have gained them more. They would lose. Sooner or later, they would lose.

But what they were doing was more significant than that; they were undermining Robb. It hurt to think about him, especially chafed raw as he was about everyone calling him a Stark or a wolf all the time, but still. What would happen to Robb? Theon's father's forces would attack the North, capture some castles, rape and kill peasants, and eventually the word would get to Robb's forces. The affected bannermen surely couldn't simply ignore it, Robb would either have to retreat or let some of them go with their forces, breaking up his strength. Once the Lannisters found out, it could turn the entire war. If Robb lost, or was captured, perhaps killed in battle... But that was a Stark problem, Theon was a Greyjoy.

The aim was for Theon to be king of the Iron Islands. But for all this talk of taking the crown, Theon could only be given it by the ironborn, or at the very least by his family once his father had it, and none of whom seemed inclined to do so. He had to prove himself. Which he couldn't do attacking fishing villages. Perhaps he should attack somewhere bigger... Except the bigger the place he attacked, the more it would affect Robb, the more likely it would get Robb killed, even indirectly. If Theon did more than attack a few measly fishing villages he was contributing to Robb's loss and possible death. But if he didn't, who would he be? The disinherited son of the previous Lord or King, pathetic to everyone's eyes. Robb would probably still hate him for the fishing villages, but if Theon refused to fight at all he'd surely be disowned as a coward and a Stark.

The traitorous thought to write and warn Robb rose again in his mind. Robb could make the best decision he found and wouldn't hate Theon so much for what the ironborn did, might be grateful and understanding. Robb might not die. The Northmen might throw the ironborn back, and maybe they'd both be stuck with Lords, not Kings. But, if Theon was discovered as a traitor he'd certainly be disowned, if not killed. And even if, by some miracle, Theon weren't killed or locked away and wasn't hated by Robb, what use would he be to Robb? They hoped to both be Kings and great allies: Lord or King, Robb would not be greatly served by a disinherited Theon. Even if Theon was given a lesser island or castle of his own, everyone here hated the Northmen, and none would be sympathetic of his alliance if he weren't also in charge.

He fell back onto the furs of his bed in angry and desperate frustration. He would be _happy_ to reave and prove his worth as an ironborn, but why couldn't it be against the Lannisters? Or Dorne? Or Highgarden? Or _anywhere_ that wasn't the North and Robb. Why did the only two things he cared about have to be polar opposites? No matter what he did he was betraying someone. The gods had a sick sense of humour, and Theon felt ever more certain that the kraken-wolf monster was a sign to him, showing him how he was. And for what? He tried being less Stark, but nobody here saw it. Should he have tried to be _more_ Stark? But what good was he then? There were more than enough actual Starks as it was, and all better and more natural for it than him. No, the gods were mocking him. He was a half-kraken-half-wolf monstrosity that everybody hated and should more rightfully be killed. 

Now he just had to decide which of the awful choices left to him was least awful.

 

\-----

 

"The kraken, your grace," one of the Northmen said as they pushed Theon to his knees just inside the tent.

Theon looked - as best as he could with a black eye - to Robb's face as he turned around. He looked more tired and serious - and his armour had seen more wear and damage - than when last Theon had seen him, but he still looked commanding and positively regal. Theon hadn't realised how much he'd missed that face when he'd feared he'd never see it again. He'd wager Robb wouldn't think the same of Theon's appearance.

"Leave us," Robb commanded the lesser men, so it was just Theon, Robb and some of the leading commanders. And the direwolves; Black Lake sat with Grey Wind in the corner, watching him and wagging his tail, tentacles fidgeting and apparently fighting the urge to come over. Maybe Theon should take to calling him Mirror rather than Monster.

There was so much he could say, but didn't, staying silent.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Theon thought he knew what Robb was referring to, but glanced at the other men in the tent anxiously.

"Everyone here knows, Theon."

He nodded. "Yes."

"Be more specific," Smalljon Umber demanded suspiciously.

"I wrote the letter telling you of the attacks. I tried to obscure my identity in case it was shot down. My father rejected our proposal, but..."

"You betrayed your House?" Wendel Manderly's eyes were narrowed.

"Would you prefer that I hadn't?" Theon knew damn well how big a traitor he was. 

"You didn't warn us of the two days of reaving _before_ the village you told us about," Robin Flint scowled at him. "Those were on my House's lands."

"It would have been too suspicious if we'd been stopped immediately."

"Tell that to the people killed, the houses burned-!"

"Will my apologising bring them back? It was never _my_ plan; as you'll recall, I wanted to attack the Lannisters."

"Leave us," Robb interjected. "I need to speak to him alone. You all know not to speak of this to anyone else."

Some of the men gave Robb warning looks and Theon suspicious ones as they went, but they did go without complaint.

When they were alone Robb slowly moved over to him- But Black Lake was swifter, licking at Theon's battered and bruised face. Theon winced away, but couldn't feel disgusted. He understood the tentacles now, and was in any case still a little disgusted at himself. 

Robb clutched one of his arms and helped him to his feet and then over to the makeshift bed. "Would you like the chains off? Your wrists look painful."

Theon shook his head. "If I am to have any hope of anything, it must be believed that I am a genuine prisoner. They may think me a terrible leader or a weak fighter, merely very unlucky at best, but never an actual traitor. If I'm walking around the Stark camp free and not escaping, they'll know. And probably kill me."

Robb sat with him, Grey Wind's head in his lap as Black Lake's was now in Theon's, and looked him in the face. "Why did you do it, Theon?"

Theon huffed. "Why do you Northmen keep questioning good things?"

"I didn't realise, when I sent you to your father, that you might have to betray your family."

"Nor me. But it was that or betray you."

"You picked me over your family?" Robb sounded flattered but slightly incredulous.

"Thank you for reinforcing my own thoughts that I am surely insane."

"I just... _Why?_ After everything you said about being a Greyjoy and never being able to be a Stark..."

Theon laughed, but it made him feel sick. "As it turns out I can't be a Greyjoy either. Not in my father's eyes. I returned home to a place where nobody knew me or cared. My father wouldn't listen to anything I said, any sacrifices I had made for him. He prefers my sister as his heir to me. Would probably prefer my uncles too. He wouldn't listen. And do you know what he told me? He should rather have killed me as a child than let me become who I am now. I don't think he cared, when he made his own plan, if it should lead to my beheading or not, because he'd already decided who I'd become without even having met me."

Robb stared. "That's terrible..."

"Sad to say, it was still a hard decision. I might still have earned back some kind of respect by doing what he commanded, however little that was. But I'd still have been a traitor, because I swore an oath to you, didn't I? More fool me for thinking two such obligations would never contradict each other."

"But you took my oath as more important?"

"Why, would you have forgiven me if I had broken my word to you? If, fighting the Lannisters, you'd received word that, instead of bringing you your army, I was instead part of an invading force on your own lands? You wouldn't have wanted my head?" Theon could feel his hollow grin practically breaking his face in two.

"I would have heard your final words, and perhaps I would have understood. Sent you to the Wall."

"And some good I'd be there, having betrayed you, stood with your loyal bastard brother."

"So that's why you warned us and let yourself get captured?"

He sighed, face falling a little. "No, not entirely. You see this thing?" he asked, nodding his head down in indication at the wolf.

"Black Lake."

"I think it _is_ meant for me. It is what I am: a monstrous mixture of two things that should never be together; hated and best off dead."

"No he's not-"

"He _is_. Any sensible man would agree. My father would agree, the ironborn would agree, most Northmen would agree, even I agree to an extent. Except for you. And your wolf, which seems to be like you too. You are the only person I have ever met who does or would accept me as I am, wrong though it is. I don't know if I can or should become more kraken or more direwolf at this point, but... Unlike with my family, with you it seems like it doesn't matter either way, that maybe you'll accept me regardless. If I stayed with my family I could have killed myself trying and failing to be good enough. And, deliberately and directly or not, it might have gotten you killed. If there is one person in the world I need not to be dead right now, it's you. _That's_ why I'm here."

Robb was silent for a while, petting Grey Wind thoughtfully. "Let me set you free. I trust you, you can rejoin me. You've earned your place."

"And what good would I be then? I may never be able to become a King, but perhaps I might inherit something somehow, and we could still be allies to a degree at least, if not too openly on my part. Otherwise I'll be a traitor, despised by my own family and the common people, and what good am I to you dispossessed?"

"You're still good to me, with or without your claims. I told you; you're like a brother to me, truly."

The sincerity was painful. "Well, it doesn't change the fact that if they got their hands on me they would kill me. It doesn't hurt to keep me chained as your prisoner for the duration, then as a hostage again until things change on Pyke."

Robb sighed. "Alright. But I'm not keeping you here near the field like this; they might recapture you, and letting yourself be caught by us again would surely be suspicious. We'll set you up in a room in a fort. That way you can be locked in without wearing chains."

"Dungeon?" Theon wasn't looking forward to that.

"Nicer room than that," Robb frowned. "You can blame that on my attachment to you if they do manage to get you."

"Most of your men don't know I helped you though, do they?"

"No, your secret should be safe."

"But mightn't it undermine you? People believing you're going easy on a traitor because of personal feelings?"

"You saw that my personal guard knows more, and they can communicate that by confidence in me without telling the other men exactly what's happening behind the scenes. Stop worrying, Theon: we have things largely under control, thanks more than a little in part to you. All you need to concern yourself with, if you don't want to be, is not getting recaptured. It would be terribly ironic if _they_ took you as a hostage to ensure _my_ good behaviour."

Theon raised an eyebrow at him. "Would that work?"

Robb hesitated. "There would be rescue missions. And definitely war if they hurt you."

Theon refused to acknowledge how flattered he felt. "Go on then, stick me in an impenetrable fortress."

Robb smiled. Theon had missed that smile. "I'll go discuss with the men."

 

\-----

 

In truth, being kept off the battlefield was very frustrating. Theon's bedchamber here was comfortable, more comfortable than the one he'd been given in Pyke, but being kept to one room, trying to fight the boredom and pass the time whilst knowing there were battles being fought so nearby...! Not that he could really wish to be fighting the ironborn. He might well never forgive his sister humiliating him as she had, but he did not _truly_ want to cut her in two with a sword. In his imagination, yes; in reality, no. He did wish he could fight alongside Robb though: he was going to feel terrible if Robb was cut down while Theon sat and tried to figure out cyvasse by himself. That was, in fact, part of the reason for his boredom. Robb had offered to leave Black Lake to keep him company, but he'd refused.

"I'm certain he's meant to be yours really," Robb smiled. "You don't seem to mind him so much anymore, so if you want some company I'll leave him to you."

Theon had shook his head. "That's why you need to take him. I can't fight alongside and protect you, but if I can give you Black Lake and he can do so for me, it'll make me happier." 

The wolf seemed to be doing a good job, alongside Grey Wind. And Theon wasn't always alone. His obligatory guards were suspicious of him, but Lady Stark had actually come to visit twice now, and had been warmer to him than she had ever been in his life, which he supposed meant that Robb had told her the truth. Theon hoped he wasn't going to cave in and tell _everybody_ , but Theon could imagine how Lady Catelyn had ended up knowing: probably lecturing Robb again and again about how Theon was a traitor and Robb shouldn't be attached as he was, until finally Robb snapped and told her the truth, so now she felt bad and sorry for Theon. It was very awkward talking to her, but it was better than nothing, and she seemed to be struggling with the strain of having lost her husband, her daughters being held captive by their enemies and her eldest son fighting frequent battles. Theon could feel a little sympathy at least.

Best of all, of course, was when Robb came to visit. He didn't do so _every_ day so as not to appear too over-attached to his prisoner, but if he had cause to be in the fortress he'd come by and spend some time with Theon. It seemed they both benefited from it, Robb often venting out everything on his mind about battles and the politics behind it.

Retreating North to deal with the ironborn had not caused so much trouble as they had feared it might, since the Lannisters were also having to deal with both Baratheon brothers trying to claim the throne. The Lannisters were in fact trying to broker a deal for Jaime and perhaps a degree of peace, at least for a while: they would return Sansa and also Ned's body, but they made no mention of Arya. Only later were they informed that the Lannisters didn't have Arya at all; she had disappeared when Lord Stark was arrested and hadn't been seen since. She might still be hidden in King's Landing, or she might have left somehow, or she _might_ have been killed, but not at the knowing hand of the Lannisters. All they could offer in that respect was saying that they would search for and return her if and when she turned up.

"Words are wind," Theon mused.

"Nobody's inclined to trust the Lannisters. If they're not lying already, I wouldn't trust them not to hold her hostage if she turns up after they've regained the Kingslayer."

Theon knew Robb was bothered by the idea that one of his sisters might already be dead. "They wouldn't just kill an important hostage like that. And Arya's a tough kid," Theon tried to comfort, "she wouldn't be hurt so easily."

"But she wouldn't have gone along easily with them either. If she fought her capture and the men got carried away..." He cleared his throat. "In any case, we might be able to deal with the ironborn quicker than the Lannisters can fight off two separate threats, so we could rejoin the fray afterwards."

"Can you deal with the ironborn? Without having to go and conquer Pyke?"

"Perhaps not. We'll have to leave some of our forces to defend the North if we return South."

"If you can get the hostages they hold back then you can continue to declare yourself King in the North and sit back and wait for anyone who disagrees to come to you. Stay on the defensive."

"If they want the Kingslayer back, they'd better hurry up and find Arya then."

It wasn't always such serious matters they discussed though.   
Theon had at least been sent Black Lake for company that evening, but for the past couple of hours he could overhear the celebratory noises from the fields outside and echoing through the halls inside. Rowdy, drunken cheers and songs from the men. Theon himself had no wine or ale, and obviously no access to camp followers, and his guards were not inclined to change that. Theon just lay on the bed, stroking Black Lake and trying not to be too disturbed by his squirming tentacles spread out in relaxation. What kind of kraken was he, to be disgusted and disturbed by tentacles? _Clearly not a very good one,_ as he was sure his family would tell him.

But then Robb came by, Grey Wind trotting after him, looking a tad drunk himself. "I brought you wine," he grinned.

"About time. What are we celebrating?" he asked as Black Lake moved to lie down with Grey Wind and Robb sat on his bed.

"A couple of big victories, but don't worry about them."

Theon watched him out of the corner of his eye. "Anyone I know?"

"Drumms? Saltcliffes? Goodbrothers?"

"I know of them, probably some distant relatives somewhere there, but aren't there always?" He swigged some wine happily enough, though the traitorous feeling remained in his stomach. 

"You don't know how happy I am to have you here, Theon. And not on the battlefield."

Theon frowned at him. "I'm a valuable asset on the battlefield."

"Yes, but I don't mean that, I mean... All day I am among the men, most all of them older than me and with more experience and everyone is constantly judging me and my performance. And if I don't do well it affects their confidence which affects our chances... And some of them are about our ages and I almost feel myself building that affinity, but I should never truly let my guard down, or risk letting everyone down. Being in command... I think I knew it would be difficult, but not quite so hard as this, because it's basically all day, every day."

Theon hadn't really thought about that. He'd kind of been in command for the reaving he did, but he'd been distracted by what was going to happen if and when Robb's men caught them, and most of his own men had been content to go without orders, robbing, raping and pillaging to their own heart's desires; they probably wouldn't have listened much even if Theon had tried to command them.

"But you... You already know me. You've known me most of my life. And you came back to me over your own family. I can just relax and talk to you, you know?"

Theon wished he could be as drunk as Robb was right now.

"I really did miss you when you were gone. I almost went to a camp follower one night."

"Are you _really_ comparing me to a camp follower?"

"I just felt lonely. I wanted somebody to talk to where what I said might not affect who lived and who died the next day."

"Might have released some tension too..." Theon grinned.

"I can't do that, Theon." Robb raised his eyes in exasperation.

"Why not? You have a cock, don't you? You Starks - fucking a wench now and then isn't the end of the world. If she's a prostitute and you pay well, she'll practically thank you. Could do with one myself up here. Got little to do but play with myself all day."

Robb snorted. "I still have to marry a Frey, and in my experience wives don't look kindly on bastards. The marriage will likely be hard enough without it."

"Truly? You get to pick the girl; she may be the best of a bad bunch, but she might well be flattered and like you all the more for it. Just get as drunk as you are now, bury your face in her teats - or thighs if you prefer - and you'll soon find you don't care so long as you can stick your dick in her."

Robb's face went redder with embarrassment. "If I didn't already know perfectly well, I would wonder why I was friends with you."

"It's because you're a _sensitive soul_ who just desperately needs _somebody to talk to_ ," he mocked, laughing.

Robb scowled and tackled him across the bed, spilling some of the wine Theon held, and pressing him to the furs while Theon still laughed.

But when Theon looked him in the face, Robb's expression softened as he looked down on him, and then he leaned down, eyes closing, and pressed his lips to Theon's. With Robb's weight on him, Theon couldn't have moved much if he'd wanted to.

It lasted a very long moment before Robb pulled back just a little. Theon swallowed. "Robb?"

That seemed to bring Robb back to his senses, and he backed off of him, face flushing worse than before. "I- Sorry, I- I've had so much to drink tonight, and I'm grateful to you, and... I'll go. I should go-"

Theon had been alarmed, but this was ridiculous. "Oh calm down and shut up, _your grace_."

Robb sort of frowned at him, but seemed too uncertain to argue.

So did Robb have some kind of crush on him? Theon knew there were men like that, and that would explain how Robb was so damn resistant to a woman's charms. Theon was older but not by too much, quite handsome if he did say so himself, skilled, sexual... If he found such traits in a woman (it did recall the miller's wife to mind), he would be happy to fuck her. And did he mind Robb's attentions? No, he decided, but he should be in charge; he could teach the young King Stark a thing or two.

He moved closer to Robb, putting an arm around his back and the other behind Robb's neck, pulling him close and then showing Robb a _real_ kiss. Robb's reactions were slow, but if anything he pulled closer, letting Theon's tongue into his mouth, and for all that he lacked in skill he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Then, when they broke apart for breath, he barely whispered " _Theon_ " under his breath, and when Theon looked him in the face he saw wide, lust-drunk pupils- And clearly Theon had drunk more than he realised, because this was starting to go to his cock, and that shot something up to his brain.

He laughed awkwardly. "Uh, you know I think we may both be too drunk for this now. It's late, and we're drunk, and..." _This was Robb Stark, innocent man-maiden, and Theon's best friend and family since before he'd been old enough to shave. Surely he shouldn't._

"You wish me to go?"

"I- Um, no. Stay." Theon wasn't certain of his own reasoning, he was hoping that might become clear. "You don't want to be wandering around drunk in front of your men, struggling to find your own bed, do you? No, stay. We'll laugh in the morning. After a good night's sleep. There's plenty of space here."

"I am tired," he conceded. No doubt he couldn't have stayed awake through whatever they might have done anyway.

"Yes. We'll sleep off the wine and be fine in the morning."

Robb stripped off his jerkin and everything down to his underclothes, pulled up the other side of the furs, climbed inside and fell asleep swiftly, while Theon was left in a daze. He should sleep too. His brain would work properly again in the morning. He took off his own over-clothes, folded them more neatly than Robb had managed and then awkwardly climbed into the other side of the bed to Robb, without even managing to wake him, from the look of his slack face. Robb ought to look stupid. Theon ought to want to mock him when he woke up, or draw on his face. Not have a strange feeling in his heart and stomach. And also slightly in his cock. 

It was the alcohol. And the time. And his being locked up by himself. After some sleep it would go away and everything would make sense.

 

\-----

 

Theon was awoken the next morning by the sound of something smashing, " _Seven hells!_ "

He opened his eyes to see wine spilt and soaking into the floor, and Robb looking panicked. "Huh?"

"I- Sorry, I was just dressing to go and I knocked the wine off the side..."

"It's fine," Theon said faintly. "Servants will deal with it. You have to go: go."

Robb calmed himself and forced a smile. "Fine. I'll come back and see you later. If my clumsiness doesn't get me killed in the meantime."

Theon sat straight up and glared at him. " _ **Don't** get yourself killed!_ "

Robb looked like he was laughing slightly at Theon's reaction but left, direwolves following.

It took a couple of minutes for Theon to calm down at Robb's joke. Then he flopped back down onto the bed and clenched his eyes shut. 

_Seven hells, I'm in love with Robb Stark._

He briefly wondered if he should smother himself now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love (especially heavily entangled with lust) is hard, and especially when the object of such has an army to lead.

If Theon had thought it was horrible being stuck in a room in a fortress while a battle raged on outside, it was nothing to being stuck in a room in a fortress while a battle raged on outside _and you were in love with one of the fighters._ For one thing, it reminded him altogether too much of stories and songs of women waiting for their men to return from war, which, while a close approximation, was not a favourable one in his case. And he didn't even know if it would be a happy song or a tragic one - which was also the most obvious problem: _Robb could be dying right now._

Somewhat linked to that was his other main problem: it left a man altogether too much time to think, and worry. Theon didn't even know if this was normal, since he'd never had such intense feelings for someone before. An intense desire to _fuck somebody_ , certainly, but not this. So he spent his time worrying about it. So, he loved Robb: was that wrong? Was it not so unusual for people as close as they were? Might Robb feel the same way? Robb had been the one to kiss Theon to start with, but he had been very drunk. Was it only a drunk thing? Would Theon spend the rest of their friendship trying to make it happen again? What if Robb's feelings were only lust? Theon had seen lovesick girls and women who had been fucked and abandoned (may well have caused some himself) - would Robb turn him into that? _Might_ he love Theon too? How could Theon even begin to broach that? What if Robb had no idea what he was speaking of or laughed at him? Was this why Theon was half-Stark, because he was in love with one? If it was only lust rather than love Robb felt for him, was that the only reason he accepted Theon, so that they might fuck? Did Robb accept him because he loved Theon as Theon loved him? If Theon somehow managed to stop his feelings for Robb, would he then become a proper kraken and finally win over his family? Was there some version of a male concubine so he could stay with Robb after he married whichever Frey? Would Theon ever be able to overcome the blow to his reputation amongst the ironborn if he were in a sexual relationship for any amount of time with Robb? _Why did the gods hate him so much?!_

He could have shut his mind off to most of these questions, but they were preferable to thinking about the possibility that Robb might be dead, so he toyed with all of the nicer (though barely, in some cases) possibilities until the anxiety and frustration became too much. Apparently there was a big battle underway at the moment, and it was uncertain that the fighters would return that night, meaning no Robb who might help answer his questions. Which also meant sleepless nights worrying as well as days. Seven hells, he _was_ turning into a woman.

Eventually the soldiers did return from what he could hear and see from his window, but still Theon was alone. He knew that waiting made time seem to tick slower, but surely Robb wouldn't make him wait so long? And it wasn't just his imagination: the light from the window was moving across the room with the Sun. What if Robb _couldn't_ visit him? What if he was badly injured, or worse... What if the ironborn captured him? Wouldn't _somebody_ come to let him know?!

Theon wound up falling asleep, mentally and emotionally exhausted, and awoke to a whining sound and a low voice. _Robb. Thank the gods._

"Where in the hells have you been?" he demanded of Robb's crouching back, voice still sleepy.

Robb turned, surprised. "Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you."

"I fell asleep _waiting for you to come see me,_ you know, _let me know you're still alive_ ," he glared.

"Sorry, I would have come sooner, but Black Lake..."

Theon sat up and moved to look, how much he suddenly found himself worrying surprising even himself. But no, Black Lake was still there and breathing, but the source of the whimpering that had awoken Theon - and there was something wrong with one of his tentacles, now much shorter than the others, bandaged and with a splint? "What happened?"

"He seized someone in the battle and somebody else went to the tentacle with an axe."

Theon winced on the wolf's behalf. "I'm almost surprised that hasn't happened before."

"Yes, but he's built up quite the reputation now, so they make him a target."

"A reputation? As what, a monstrous mutant beast sent from the hells themselves?"

Robb gave a small smile. "More or less, yes."

Theon quite liked the idea now. "Who decided to give it a splint?"

"He kept moving it, causing himself more pain and bleeding, and this seemed the best way to keep at least the end still. The maester's managed to mix up and water down some dreamwine that should help him sleep through it for a while, so hopefully he'll quieten down soon."

Robb moved away to sit on Theon's bed and they just watched the direwolves for a while. Black Lake lying still and whimpering, Grey Wind lying over him, nuzzling and licking him. Theon wondered if Black Lake loved Grey Wind, or vice-versa. Did wolves feel love? Did the males ever love each other over the bitches? Maybe this was a good time to talk to Robb about how he felt.

"Robb?"

"Hm?" Robb turned to look at him with those soft blue eyes and red curls...

Theon's mouth dried up and the words died in his throat. Seven hells, Theon was a traitor, possibly a pervert and now also a complete craven. "He should be okay though, right?" he improvised. "I mean, the tentacles aren't vital to his well-being..."

"No, he should be fine once the pain dies away and the wound heals. But I'm not taking him into battle like this, so I'll leave him with you until then. I'm tempted to leave Grey Wind too, they seem much happier together..."

"No: you can leave Black Lake while he's hurt, but there's no way you're going out onto the battlefield with no direwolves at your back."

"I still have a considerable army, Theon," Robb gave an amused smile.

"I don't care, you're taking him with you."

"I swear you're as bad as my mother sometimes."

Theon glared at him and briefly considered whether he might get away with doing to Robb what Robb had done to him, tackling and then kissing him. But the moment passed and Theon was a terrible, terrible craven. "You know, if it's safe for the tentacles to be removed, we could have done that at the start. He would have looked almost the same as any of the others and people wouldn't have hated him so much." Maybe it would have been easier for Theon.

Robb frowned at him. "But it's part of who he is. It makes him stronger - you clearly haven't seen him on the battlefield properly; there's a _reason_ people want those tentacles gone. And why should he have to change and have parts removed just to make other people more comfortable?"

It was truly touching how much Robb cared about the thing that should have been Theon's - Theon's responsibility when at the time he would rather have killed it outright. "Thanks for raising him Robb. You didn't have to do that."

Robb grinned. "I'm not sure Grey Wind would have left me much choice. And... Well, it reminded me of you. And when you declared that you weren't a Stark and were eventually going to leave forever for Pyke... I knew I'd need to keep him instead," he said quietly, looking at the wolves.

_That_ was ridiculously and pathetically soft and sweet, like one of Sansa's favourite romantic stories. Theon was torn between an intense desire to mock him, and wondering... "Do you, you know... love me?"

Robb looked at him suddenly, a slight blush creeping into his face. "How do you mean? We're like brothers, we've said that."

"No, I mean do you..." Theon sighed and winced at what he was finally going to summon the balls to say. "I think I might, kind of, be slightly in love with you." Well, having to add all the preamble was still a little craven, but also sensible to have a plan of retreat.

Robb's eyes went practically round. "Really?"

" _I think,_ " he emphasised again gruffly - now _he_ was blushing.

Robb swallowed and then nodded. "I think- I think I may have been for some years now. But I- I never thought that _you..._ "

"Well it would certainly explain why I'm more willing to be your prisoner than be free with my family..."

"Can I kiss you?" Robb asked and then seemed to decide that asking was stupid, grabbing Theon by the head and pressing their lips together before Theon could respond, and he was still so inexperienced but also so _earnest_ about it. Theon had to give him what he wanted.

Theon pulled Robb's whole body closer until he was practically straddling Theon, Robb never stopping his assault on his mouth, and Theon wanted, _needed,_ more, the feel of Robb's bare skin on his hands, and already he was thinking too far ahead: them writhing together, Robb's hips undulating against Theon's palms; but Theon hadn't even gotten under his jerkin yet. Why did clothes have to be so _complicated?!_ The man's breeches were simple enough though, and Theon tore at the laces until he could slip a hand down, first groping the inside of one of Robb's warm, smooth thighs (Theon was going to kiss and suck bruises there later), and then back up to feel the weight and heat of his cock and balls. _Fuck,_ he wanted this so much-

There was a sudden knock on the door. "Your grace? Are you in there?"

They froze, but thankfully the messenger wasn't fool enough to charge straight into a room. Robb broke away from Theon slightly, slipping his hand out of his breeches, and tried to compose himself quickly. "I am. What is it?"

"Greatjon Umber wishes to speak to you further tonight about the plans."

Robb pulled a pained but resigned face. Theon stared and then glared, livid. _No,_ he mouthed.

_I have to,_ Robb mouthed back and shrugged apologetically. "I'll be right there."

Theon turned his back to him, the insensitive bastard abandoning him just like that, _right in the middle..._

"Theon..." Robb said quietly. Theon refused to relent. But Robb grasped his head again, and tilted it enough to press another kiss to his lips - gentle this time, and though Robb's passionate kisses were sloppy and inexperienced, his gentle ones were _amazing,_ and he found most of his anger melting away. "Go to sleep. We'll... discuss further later."

Theon rolled his eyes moodily and let him go. His cock was still half-hard, but he was very conscious of the direwolves' silent presence now that he wasn't caught up in Robb. In the end he pretended to go to bed properly and sleep with his back to them, but miserably finished himself off under the covers. They could probably tell anyway, whether or not they cared. 

Theon hated his life sometimes.

 

\-----

 

" _What?!_ "

"They've moved their attacks, we need to move our camp," Robb shrugged, uncomprehending of Theon's reaction.

"And you're going to _leave me here?!_ "

"You're safe and comfortable and it-"

" _No!_ I swear, by the old gods and the new - _and_ the drowned, and _Row-law_ or whatever its name is - if you leave me this far behind when you go to war, Robb Stark...!"

"You won't be on the battlefield either way - is it so big of a difference?"

" _Yes!_ I might not see you for a month or more - _a month where you might die!_ Tell me there isn't another fortress there! I don't care if it's less comfortable or safe, _you are not abandoning me that easily now Stark._ "

Robb looked hurt. "I'm not trying to abandon you. And... yes, I suppose there _is_ a fort..."

"Wonderful. I'll pack my things."

"You'll have to travel with us as a prisoner again."

"Oh no, however will I live."

Robb sighed. "You're very angry lately."

"In case you've forgotten, we still haven't picked up where we left off the night before last. We have _earned_ a good few hours of uninterrupted fucking, Stark, and we didn't even manage fifteen minutes!"

Theon could at least see the desire in Robb's eyes, but, of course: "I can't right now."

"You could die any fucking day, Stark. It'd be fucking devastating enough as it is, but if we don't even get _one time_ together before that happens...?! I swear I will kill _myself_ just in order that I can track you down _and kill you again._ "

"You're _really_ very angry."

"I love you, you bastard! And that's turned me into a traitor and some kind of deviant, so I _demand_ my upside to it!"

"Somehow you're making me want you even more right now."

" _Then ignore your duties to everyone else and fucking take me!_ "

But voices were drawing closer again and Robb drew back. "I'll send people to bring you along with the provisions and everything. We'll make time, I swear to it."

"You better fucking had," Theon grumbled.

 

\-----

 

Robb was true to his word about bringing Theon at least. And Theon's hands being tied tightly behind his back with leather strips rather than chained was a sign of his affections, Theon supposed, though it would be less wise if Theon were the kind of prisoner who wished to leave. Of course it happened that Theon was actually the kind of prisoner who not only didn't want to leave, but would be quite happily tied to Robb instead. Then he could drag the man off for the private time he was promised. Theon used to like the glory of war, now he hated the number of people and lack of alone time. And he did wonder whether all his old womanising was part of the reason he used to be far more laid back, and thus now why he was so angry and uptight. Though, truth be told, it was likely just the fear of losing Robb. Love was awful.

The ironborn attacks were already taking place and there wasn't time enough for the army to reach its final destination, so the temporary camp was set up in a forest clearing. Most of the men headed off to fight, Robb looking serious and inspirational, great songs would be sung, etc, etc, and Theon was left to while away the time in Robb's tent, guards posted nearby. It would have been boring enough even were his hands _not_ still tied behind his back, but as it was he once again thought a lot and dozed on Robb's bed - and certainly never once sniffed at it for Robb's scent, that would have been too pathetic to be borne. Though perhaps it would have served the man right if Theon had been left with no option but to frott against and ruin his bed in his absence. Theon couldn't believe most military leaders would be quite so diligent in the face of somebody demanding to sleep with them. Theon certainly couldn't have been: he had _needs,_ Robb Stark.

Theon had been dozing - curled up on his side - when Robb returned, and it looked like good news from battle again. Theon quashed the thoughts of which ironborn soldiers would have died in favour of the man in front of him. "All went well?"

"All went well," he smiled, sitting by Theon's drawn up feet on the bed. Then he wrapped an arm around Theon to help him upright, and pulled him close enough for them to kiss.

"Wha-"

"The men are taking their time celebrating on the way back, your guards dismissed to patrol wider around the camp," he grinned, looking a little nervous.

_Fucking finally,_ Theon thought as Robb kissed him again, pushing Theon back down onto his tied hands and back, holding Theon's face and covering Theon's body with his own. _Yes,_ except for one thing: "Robb-" he managed between kisses, "my hands-"

Robb's eyes were dark with desire, but briefly concerned, "Do they hurt?"

"No, bu-"

Robb resumed kissing him harder, completely ignoring Theon's request. 

_Gods damn it,_ Theon _needed_ his hands on Robb, wanted to be able to take control, but they were tied too tightly and he couldn't force the leather to break no matter how he pulled. He couldn't speak or even whine his frustration through the onslaught of kisses either, any noises thrown off by the actions of Robb's hands and mouth.

And then Robb was undressing him, Theon scarcely able to resist had he wanted to, chest soon bared and collarbone submitted to Robb's mouth too, before his breeches were being pulled undone and Theon's cock revealed to the open air. Robb was still entirely dressed, and for some reason that was all the more arousing.

" _Robb,_ " he found himself panting as the man sat back on his heels, apparently taking in the sight of Theon like this.

" _Theon..._ " Robb responded, voice possibly deeper than Theon had ever heard from him before, but simultaneously slightly overwhelmed. 

Theon reminded himself of Robb's virgin status - no wonder he'd be overwhelmed. "Robb, untie my hands and I can-"

"No," Robb insisted, kissing him silent again until Theon was breathless once more. 

Then Robb moved down, still kissing, and Theon didn't know whether it was by accident or if Robb somehow knew, but he could swear Robb was hitting all his sensitive points - on his neck, collarbone, a nipple that made him arch and hiss slightly, prompting Robb to do the same to the other, while Robb's enviously free hands ghosted around his sides and back, tickling and arousing him all the more. Gods, he couldn't take very much more of this. " _Robb..._ "

Robb finished gently biting and kissing his way down his stomach and stopped, hands resting on Theon's bare hips, and looking directly at his cock. Theon wasn't sure what he was thinking, hopefully something vaguely flattering. Hopefully not realising and wishing for a cunt now that they'd come this far- But with a breath Robb was lowering his head to it and-

"OH _FUCK,_ " he gasped with his head thrown back, and felt Robb's mouth pull away immediately, though that was the opposite of what he wanted.

"I said the guards were patrolling around, not _gone_ \- keep quiet!"

Theon laughed breathlessly at the notion. Robb Stark - _King Robb Stark_ \- was sucking his cock. Theon didn't care about a great deal else right now.

He felt Robb lean over his body and then something - a leather bracer? - being pushed between his teeth. "Bite down on that, and keep _quiet_."

Theon did so, still laughing a little incredulously until Robb resumed, a firm hand gripping Theon's base while the wet heat of his mouth and tongue and lips worked against Theon's tip, little by little taking more, leaving Theon to groan against the bracer, hips desperately trying to press forward from under Robb's other hand, his own hands equally desperate to free themselves from their own restraints but still to no avail. 

Theon had been on the receiving end of such actions by experienced women before, so he was blaming the tears rolling down the sides of his face at how _good_ it was on how long he'd been kept waiting for this, and also: Robb fucking Stark, King in the North. Also to blame for how not-massively-long he lasted, though it would have been still shorter had he just been able to free his hands and pull that curly-haired head _down...!_ He was still in Robb's mouth as he spent - hard, almost painful, and _beautiful_ \- and perhaps Theon would have been able to help him as he choked, _had his hands been free_ , though the sight of some of his seed escaping down Robb's chin rendered him still more paralysed than his climax already had.

Fortunately Robb recovered fairly swiftly - and there would need be no songs of a King in the North who won all of his battles before choking to death on another man's semen, which was not the kind of lasting fame either man craved - and they were soon lying breathlessly together while Theon's high very slowly faded.

"Can I please have my hands back now?" he sighed. He'd never appreciated how much he liked and needed to touch around sex before.

"Oh, yes, of course," Robb agreed, apparently stunned and distracted by what he'd done.

Theon managed to shift himself onto his front, trying to kneel with Robb behind him, but couldn't get the strength or leverage to get himself upright even with his knees beneath him. And he only realised the position the attempt had left him in when he felt Robb's erection pressed against his arse through their breeches. For a moment he wondered if it was intentional on Robb's part, but the other man appeared to be absorbed in untying the tight knots binding Theon's hands. He should have known; eager virgin Robb was hardly the type to do such a thing on purpose, Theon didn't know how much of an idea Robb even had about these things. The poor guy had never even had his cock in someone, male or female.

That wasn't really a problem. Some people went their whole lives without having sex. You couldn't miss something you'd never had, surely. Theon should not at all feel bad for him about that. Theon should certainly not be considering things.

And yet he was. "Robb?" he could feel his face getting a little hot already, struggling to force the words out.

"Sorry, you've pulled the knots tight, but I've almost got it."

"No, not that, I- Do you- If you wanted to..."

He could only just see Robb's confused expression out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

Theon couldn't bring himself to say it and shamefully found it slightly easier to respond by pushing and rubbing his buttocks slightly against Robb's crotch, even while his hands finally came free. "I- If you wanted to... You could."

After the moment it took him to understand what Theon meant, he looked stunned. Then Robb hesitantly put his hands around Theon's hips and Theon felt it when Robb's hips jerked involuntarily against him. _Seven hells_. Theon must be crazy.

"No," Robb said quickly.

Hold on, _what?_ Robb clearly wanted it, and Theon may have been sca- _apprehensive_ , but he wouldn't have offered if he hadn't meant it - rejecting him for something so big was just _rude-_

But then Robb's hands were twisting his hips, turning him over. "I want to see you."

_Oh._ Well, that was something. Something big when Robb pushed between his spread legs. _Seven hells,_ Theon was definitely feeling the apprehension now. "I- You'll- _We'll_ need something wet, or something..." Theon's whole train of thought was rapidly becoming a series of swearwords. Robb was going to fuck him like a woman, and that was not something that he should want.

 

About quarter of an hour later, alright, fuck it: yes, it was _exactly_ what Theon wanted. He couldn't say it wasn't at all painful, but equally he couldn't say that his cock wasn't half hard again at the way he was pushed open wide with the thick heat of Robb pumping in and out of him. Theon didn't know what was wrong with him or when it had happened and he was sure he'd be judging himself later, but not now, no, not now. He was also very impressed at how Robb was lasting this long on his first time - gods knew (and thankfully kept secret) that Theon hadn't done half so well on his. And that was giving Theon plenty of opportunity to feel him - hand round Robb's warm neck and into his hair as they strained close enough to kiss, pushing up under his jerkin, slipping down to feel his smooth buttocks- and oh, _seven hells_ , feeling the ripple of muscles with each thrust as it hit him just _did something_ to Theon.

He let his head fall and arch back, struggling not to cry out while Robb kissed and sucked at Theon's throat instead. Theon turned his head to the side to allow him more access and- _What was-?_ SEVEN HELLS THERE WAS SOMEBODY WATCHING FROM THE ENTRANCE.

Theon tensed up staring at the boy who looked equally frozen, throat closed too much to alert Robb. His throat wasn't the only thing that clenched, Robb groaning and his thrusts quickly becoming even less steady, finally forcing a noise from Theon, much higher pitched than those he had been making before. And that must have been enough to make Robb notice what Theon was staring at, because Theon felt him freeze and tense over him. But being noticed by his King was apparently enough to snap the boy - probably a squire - out of it, and he quickly ran out of the tent.

He and Robb stared at each other in fear. What could they do?

They decided in different directions; Robb started to pull away, "I might be able to catch-", but Theon grabbed and held him close: " _Finish._ "

"But... if he tells-"

"And if you go running out after him, half dressed and your cock hard? That's really going to disprove his story. This might be our only chance: _finish_."

Robb listened and, after that alarming interruption, it took even longer than it would have done otherwise, but with enough desperate kissing that they were too breathless to think, Robb finally came deep inside him before pulling Theon over the edge again with his hand. It was just a shame they couldn't stay to be together.

"Alright," Theon sighed, slowly pushing himself up, "let's- _agggggggghhhhhhhh..._ "

"What's wrong?" Robb asked, eyes fearful, as Theon fell back on the bed in pain.

Theon couldn't believe he hadn't thought - or had at least forgotten - that there would be consequences to what they'd just done. "I think you'll have to search him out alone. I don't think I can walk right now."

"Have I _wounded you?!_ " It sounded like this was quickly shaping up to be one of the worst days of Robb's life.

"No, no, calm down. I'm just... sore. I don't seem to be bleeding, it'll go eventually, I just need some time. Pass me my breeches."

Robb did so but looked miserable and anxious. "We shouldn't have risked it. You're supposed to be my prisoner - what if they think I was raping you, raping a prisoner..."

Theon couldn't suppress an incredulous laugh of surprise. "Only if that boy is blind, deaf or stupid. Trust me, it was pretty fucking obvious I was enjoying it. More likely I was seducing you for freedom or favours, like a whore." Theon winced at the mental image of what he must have looked like, naked from the waist down, legs wrapped around Robb's hips and waist as Robb fucked him into the furs... There was nothing Greyjoy or Stark about that. He was his own special flavour of fucked up. "Don't worry Robb, I'll take the blow-back. It's not like I have much of a reputation to lose anyway."

"I won't let it come to that," Robb frowned and left the tent with a determined expression.

Theon sighed again and managed to slowly and painfully pull his breeches back on. He'd say that this was probably a clear indication of things that he wasn't supposed to do with arse, but then it was unfair that it should feel so good while it was happening. At least he couldn't find himself pregnant with a bastard child, and virgin Robb wouldn't give him the pox.

Robb was only gone a few minutes. "Couldn't find him?" Theon asked.

"Actually he was just sat outside waiting to give me a message. Though he couldn't look me in the face as he did it." Robb was looking quite embarrassed still.

"So he hasn't told anyone yet?"

"No. And I think I've bribed and somewhat threatened enough that he won't later either."

"Did you try to explain?"

"Er, I kind of said that there was an explanation, but not really what it was. But people shouldn't know. And he would make a good knight one day."

Theon laughed. "Probably one of the youngest knights in a long while. Bribery and blackmail, one of the easier ways up the ladder."

They risked just lying together for a while after that, Theon still not quite up to moving, until the sound of returning men forced them apart. Then Robb helped him to stand so that they could go out for food from the celebratory hog roast. Theon largely kept to himself and the few people that he knew knew the truth about his actions while Robb went off to put in a good showing amongst the men.

But, having collected some food, Theon found himself near the squire, who was staring at him: the ironborn man and prisoner who had spread himself like a whore for the King in the North. It only intensified his own guilt and embarrassment and he could feel the heat creeping up into his face. No, he was not going to have it be like that; he held his head high and muttered to him as he passed, "As though you wouldn't do the same."

And he felt a little wave of happiness when he glanced back after a moment and saw the boy looking very contemplative and confused. The King in the North could have most everyone here if he wanted, and more would allow him to than would admit it (and Theon reckoned they'd enjoy it), but the King in the North wanted Theon, so frankly anyone who would judge Theon was jealous or in denial.

That was definitely what he was going to tell himself from now on.


End file.
